


a cat stuck in a tree is not a 507

by scheherazade



Category: Tenimyu RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Buddy Cop AU, M/M, and background pairings, plus all the usual suspects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherazade/pseuds/scheherazade
Summary: He goes over to the tree and peers up. “Hey, um. You doing okay up there?”“I don’t know what Yanagi told you,” comes the reply, “but I don’t need a boyfriend! Even if I have two cats! I happen to like cats!”





	

  
“—then the old lady goes, ‘Sweetheart, back in my day, we just called that a hunk’!”

Watanabe Daisuke, one-man comedy show extraordinaire, starts laughing at his own joke while Keisuke frowns at the malfunctioning scanner. He turns the dials with careful, precise motions honed through years of training and experience.

The scanner still refuses to pick up a signal. He whacks it with the palm of his hand.

Daisuke yelps. “Careful! I don’t think Ikkei was kidding when he said he’d revoke all future equipment requisition forms if we broke another one.”

“Yamamoto Ikkei is all bark and no bite,” Keisuke tells him, poking the dials again. “Last week, Kuroba turned in a report scribbled on the back of a Dunkin receipt, and Yamamoto filed it for him anyway. In triplicate.”

“Yeah, I know.” Daisuke raises one eyebrow. “So unless you’re offering to sleep with Ikkei-chan to get us that kind of preferential treatment, you should probably stop banging the scanner.” The other eyebrow follows the first. “Speaking of which, when’s the last time you got laid?”

An errant hand spasm makes Keisuke hit the OFF switch by accident. Daisuke snickers at the look at his face, and then starts laughing outright when Keisuke scowls at him.

“Not on the clock, Watanabe.” He turns the scanner back on, and — wonder of wonders — it’s now operational, if still indistinct. Keisuke listens, frowning. “10-91? Another moose sighting, you think?”

“No, it's—” Daisuke cocks his head. “507? The hell is that?”

“Public nuisance,” Keisuke says absently before leaning closer to the scanner, thumb on the transmit button. “This is Minami. 10-9, please repeat.”

A long pause. Daisuke leans closer as well.

“ _…—oh-seven, School Street._ ” A burst of static. “ _…—three. Repeat, Code—_ ”

Daisuke gives him an alarmed look. “Was that a Code 3?”

“Don’t be stupid. We’re nowhere near the mob’s turf.” Keisuke presses transmit again. “Still didn’t get that. Can you repeat?”

Another burst of static, and then there’s the unmistakable sound of Makita’s longsuffering voice. “ _Hirata, a cat stuck in a tree is not a 507 — get off the scanner. Kei, Dai — you have a 10-67 at School Street. Copy?_ ”

“Copy that,” Daisuke says. He exchanges a look with his partner. “I thought they sent Hirata to the boonies after that time…?”

Keisuke snorts. “Where do you think _we_ are?” He starts the car and adjusts the rear view mirror. “Now put on your seatbelt before I call in a 10-30 for flagrant violation of district regulations.”

 

* * *

 

There is, indeed, a cat stuck in a tree on School Street.

There is also a person, in said tree with said cat, and in a similar state of stuck.

“You’re the officer they sent?” a creaky voice asks, and Keisuke turns around to see a short man peering at him like he’s a specimen under a microscope.

Keisuke takes an involuntary step back. “Yes. You called in the— About the cat?”

“That’d be me,” the guy answers. He’s leaning heavily on a cane, though he can’t be much older than twenty-five. Not that it stops him from looking Keisuke up and down and saying, “Aren’t you a bit short for this job?”

Keisuke stares at him. “Excuse me?”

The guy looks him right in the eye. Then breaks into a giant grin. “I meant for getting a cat out of a tree. Two cats, if you count the human one.” He waves his cane at the tree and hollers, “Aibacchi! Your Prince Charming is here!”

“This isn’t funny, Yanagi!” a voice yowls back.

“Oh c'mon, everyone loves a man in uniform!” The guy — Yanagi — grins at Keisuke, completely unbothered by the fact that he’s verbally harassing an officer of the law. To his face. “So, Officer Vertically Challenged. You sure you’re up for this job?”

The truthful answer is _hell no_ , but truth has little to do with public morale and safety. “That’s what ladders are for.” Keisuke glances over to the patrol car, where Daisuke is on the phone with the fire department. Daisuke holds up two fingers, which could mean anything from two minutes to _peace, bro, I got this_. “…so, yeah. Help’s on the way.”

“Good, good.” Yanagi gives his cane another cheerful wave. “Well, I have a season of _General Hospital_ to catch up on. Keep up the good work, Officer Cat Savior!”

With that, he hobbles back to a house on the end of the block. Leaving Keisuke with an unhelpful partner, a Situation, and no clue as to what he’s supposed to do now. The Academy curriculum didn’t really go in depth on _human cats in distress_.

He goes over to the tree and peers up. “Hey, um. You doing okay up there?”

“I don’t know what Yanagi told you,” comes the reply, “but I don’t need a boyfriend! Even if I have two cats! I happen to _like_ cats!”

Keisuke blinks. “Um, noted.” He glances toward Daisuke again, who’s now just talking on the phone and not even paying attention to him. Keisuke turns back to the tree. “If it helps, the fire department’s on its way. And I know those guys — their wives are all really nice, so I think you’re safe from amorous pursuits.”

“…oh.” A face peers cautiously through a leafy branch, and Keisuke experiences a split second of vertigo so strong, he could’ve sworn _he_ was the one stuck in the tree. “ _Oh_. Oh shit, you’re actually from the police department, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Holy shit. I’m gonna kill Yanagi — not literally! I mean.” It’s hard to see through the foliage, but there’s definitely some embarrassment mixed in with the disgruntlement on the guy’s face. “My cat got up here earlier, you see. And Yanagi was going on about calling my ex to get him down, because he seems to think tree-climbing is a very specialized skill — which it obviously isn’t, so I came up here myself, and…well.”

“Turns out tree-climbing is pretty specialized after all?”

“No one specializes in climbing a tree while also holding a cat, okay. And Genki doesn’t like being held.” Right on cue, a black cat peers over the branch. Its face is as disgruntled as its owner’s. Cute. “…maybe I should’ve called Shirota. He deserves to have his eyes clawed out.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Keisuke’s getting a crick in his neck. “Hey, you know…you could come down first? The fire department can get your cat—”

“I’m not leaving him up here alone! What if he jumps?!”

“…fair enough.” Keisuke leans against the tree to give his neck some respite. “So. What’s your name?”

A long pause. “Why? Am I getting written up for coming to my cat’s rescue?”

“No, no. No crime in being a cat person. I was just…” What is he doing, come to think of it? “…making conversation. Until the fire department — who are all well spoken for — until they arrive.”

The pause is even longer this time. Just as Keisuke is mentally kicking himself for being the complete opposite of a smooth operator, he hears a laugh. It’s little more than a faint nasally sound, but it’s definitely a laugh.

“Thanks,” says the guy, voice much warmer than before. “My name’s Aiba. Aiba Hiroki.” A branch rustles. “That’s Genki, as I mentioned. And, um. What about you? What do I call you, I mean.”

“Officer Minami Keisuke. Or Prince Charming, if you prefer.” There’s a splutter from above, and Keisuke smiles despite himself. “Nice to meet you both.”

 

* * *

 

By the time the fire department arrive, Keisuke has learned a few things. 

One: Aiba Hiroki is a substitute teacher, has been for about a year now, and though he has an impressive list of complaints about a shitty school system that doesn’t believe in paying teachers a living wage, the fondness when he talks about his students is genuine. 

Two: Aiba used to be a dance instructor, until he got hit by a car and was out of commission for longer than the dance school were willing to pay him disability (incidentally, he met Yanagi at physical therapy). 

Three: despite the trauma and the long recovery process, Aiba insists that he’s still “got it”, and Keisuke – is just going to take his word for it. 

Four: Aiba’s two cats are named Genki and Micchan, both rescues, both adopted about six months ago, which is around the time he broke up with his ex. 

Five: Aiba’s ex sounds like a real douchebag. 

Six: Not that Aiba’s said even remotely enough about his ex for Keisuke to be jumping to conclusions like that, so really, it’s probably good that the fire department arrive right about then with a ladder and plenty of good-humored efficiency.

Keisuke wanders back to the patrol car and finds Daisuke  _still_ on the phone, still talking, still smiling, one arm propped oh-so-casually against the window because, apparently, his lean-n-leer pick-up-chicks-quick method is applicable with or without a bar.

The car is locked. Keisuke taps on the window. Daisuke sees him, holds up one finger to indicate  _just a minute_ and okay, no.

Keisuke takes a half-step back, aims — and kicks the door.

Not hard enough to do real damage, but hard enough to trigger the hideously overpriced shock sensor they’d all been forced to install.

 _It’s for your own protection, Kei-chan,_ Makita had said in that patiently aggravated voice of his, when Keisuke filed a five-page complaint detailing all the ways in which it’s counterproductive to have a goddamn klaxon go off every time a neighborhood Ronaldo wannabe sent an errant free kick in their direction.

On the other hand, watching as Daisuke yelps, drops his phone, banging overlong limbs on various hard surfaces as he scrabbles to escape a car that’s now a 105-decibel auditory health hazard — it’s still not worth the quarter-million price tag, but it is just a little bit priceless. 

“What the hell are you doing!” are the first words out of Daisuke’s mouth once he’s wrestled the door open.

Keisuke reaches past him to snag the keys, and clicks off the alarm. “I’m saving you from another mandatory sexual harassment training.”

“Okay, first — that training was mandatory for  _everyone_ , not just me. And second…” Daisuke seems to realize he’s dropped his phone. They both dive for it at the same time, and for once Keisuke’s relative proximity to the ground actually proves to be an advantage.

“Well, she hung up on you, for starters.” Keisuke fends off Daisuke’s flailing with one hand, clicking through his text messages with the other. “But, oh look — one new message from Abe Mayuko:  _hope you’re okay, call me when you can, stay safe!!_ Two exclamation points. How many exclamation points do you think Makita will use when he hears about you hitting on the Fire Chief’s niece?”

“Not as many as Yamamoto’s gonna need when he finds out you  _set off the car alarm_.” Daisuke swipes his phone back. “I don’t understand you, man. Most days you’re a total stick in the mud, but then you go and do something like this?”

Keisuke frowns at his partner. “I am not a stick in the mud.”

Daisuke snorts. “Yeah, true. Said stick’s probably stuck somewhere up– Oh hey, Konii!”

Keisuke turns, following Daisuke’s line of sight to see one of the firefighters walking up to them. He gives them both a cheerful wave. “Hey, Dai-chan. And you must be Officer Minami?”

“That would be me.”

“Kotani Yoshikazu, FEO.” The guy’s handshake is firm. “Captain Kitamura sent me over to see if you’re all right. We heard the car alarm go off.”

“The entire neighborhood heard that go off,” Daisuke mutters, and Keisuke makes a mental note to forward him Hiramaki’s email reminder on professional conduct. Again.

“Just an equipment malfunction,” Keisuke replies, then realizes that’s probably not the most soothing thing to say to an FEO. “We’ve got it under control.” He glances over at the fire truck parked under the tree, where another firefighter is descending the ladder with a disgruntled-looking ball of fur in his arms. “How’s, uh, how’s it going over there?”

“Also under control,” Kotani replies.

Back at the tree, a slim – scrawny – figure emerges hesitantly from the branches, moving carefully down the ladder one rung at a time. The firefighter on the ground shouts encouragement; Aiba shouts back at him to hold on to the cat.

Kotani says, “Listen, I think we’re just gonna file this as an animal incident, save everybody some grief with the paperwork. Poor guy in the tree sounds like he’s had a long day already. All right with you?”

Daisuke side-eyes his partner. “Well, I’m on board, but Officer Minami over here—”

“Sounds like a plan,” Keisuke says, and Daisuke nearly chokes on his own tongue. “We’ll be off then, unless you need us for anything?”

“No, we should be fine.” Kotani gives Daisuke a curious look. “Well, nice to meet you. And good luck with your, uh, car alarm.”

“We’ll be sure to file a report,” Keisuke says agreeably, and shoves Daisuke into the car before he can say anything else.

A temporary solution, sure, as evidenced by the fact that as soon as the doors close, Daisuke is on him with, “Well okay, so now you  _have_ to tell me what happened at the tree.”

Keisuke starts the car. “There was a cat stuck in it. Said cat has now been unstuck. In other words: a solid day’s work, in our glorious precinct.”

“Yeah, but who was the guy?” Daisuke cranes his neck to peer through the rear window. “You’re running away from him, so I assume he must be like, a hot single male who’s into the height diff—”

Keisuke steps on the pedal, and Daisuke – who has neglected to put on his seat belt – is nearly thrown into the backseat, in accordance with the laws of linear momentum.

“Dude,” Daisuke mutters, minutes later, sulkily buckling himself in, “Have I mentioned that you  _really_ need to get laid?”


End file.
